


Russian Family Shenanigans

by mayazero



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Family Shenanigans, GIVE YAKOV A BREAK 2K17, GIVE YAKOV MORE LOVE 2K17, Lilia would enter the scene later, M/M, Rest in Pieces, Russian skating Fam, Various Shenanigans, Yakov is literally the russ skating fam's father, all of them are extra, baby!georgi, baby!mila, baby!victor, baby!yuri, extra!georgi, extra!mila, extra!victor, extra!yuri, family being ExtraTM, genderfluid victor, haggard single father!Yakov, might accept requests lol, non-linear time frame, poor yakov, relationships would only form once they're old enough, russ skating fam being russ skating fam, series of interconnecting drabbles, they are all still skating, they're a real family here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-11-06 00:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11024934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayazero/pseuds/mayazero
Summary: A look into the daily lives of the world’s most ExtraTM family.





	1. Viktor

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this primarily because I suddenly wanted to write something light hearted and leisurely. And what's more leisurely than writing family fluff lol. Russ skating family fluff to be exact. Cuz I also wanted them to be a real family so here it is lol ~~pls don't kill me I have cats to feed~~.
> 
> Other than the first five chapters, where I'll be introducing how Yakov managed to adopt each child, the other chapters won't necessarily be connected to each other and might even jump to different time frames. Well, it depends on what exactly I want to write for that chapter hahaha. The romance part won't be the main focus but it'll be there to add flavor lmao. After all, this story is intended as purely familial fluff and I don't want to stray away from that much.
> 
> Not beta-ed. Please excuse any mistake you'll encounter hehehe...
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy!

The day Viktor arrived into Yakov Feltsman’s life had been a shitty one.

Yakov and Lilia’s divorce has just been legalized that morning, with Yakov’s last visage of his now ex-wife being her retreating back as she left the court room, their signed divorce papers triumphantly clutched.

To make matters worse, when he was driving towards his new apartment (Lilia had managed to take the house,) _not at all_ hysterically sobbing (what the fuck are you on? He was dignified and calm, much like his cruelly wonderful ex-wife), he managed to run over a poor cat.

The succeeding negotiation he did with the grieving family had been hell. How could they expect him to know the poor cat was from a very rare breed and had been expensive as fuck? And if the cat had indeed been that precious, how could they just let it roam around the streets?

Yakov honestly felt conned.

Thankfully, when he had finally arrived at his apartment, he was given a few hours of reprieve to let out all his bottled up emotions, feeling great pleasure at breaking anything he could hold.

Until the loud crash of Lilia’s expensive, antique, and _very much loved_ vase echoed around the small room.

Yakov had stared at it in horror, distinctly remembering Lilia mentioning earlier that morning before she left about dropping by within the week to retrieve the vase, as she had accidentally packed it along with Yakov’s things.

Cue another round of hysterical sobbing (okay, _fine_. So he _had_ been crying. Big deal.)

As embarrassing as it was, Yakov had managed to cry himself into sleep like a baby right there on the floor, next to the broken vase.

When he woke up hours later, it was to a very dark and cluttered room. He had almost screamed then for Lilia, because how come the place was such a mess and why haven’t she cleaned it up yet? But managed to stop himself when he realized that ah, right, he was no longer living with Lilia. Lilia was no longer his wife.

He was now a divorced man.

The only thing that stopped him from sobbing yet again was the sound of his doorbell.

His face had lightened at that, figuring that might be Lilia dropping by, sobbing, wanting to get back together because everything had merely been a mistake. And that she was now willing to prioritize her family over her career and _Yakov, why don’t we have kids now? I’ve always known how much you wanted one._

It had not been Lilia.

Instead of the lovely visage of his wife, when Yakov managed arrive at the ground floor of his apartment building, what greeted him was an unnamed beautiful baby boy peacefully slumbering inside the basket, under folds of coarse white washed linen. The heartless person who left the baby had not even placed a note or some other device to identify the child with.

Yakov was able to set aside the bitter feelings he had been feeling in favor for sympathizing with the baby. He carefully cradled the small bundle of joy and carried it back to his apartment.

As there wasn’t really anything that could be used to identity the child, it hadn’t taken Yakov a lot of time to think of an appropriate name for him. Figuring the child might be some sort of message the higher entities had decided to impart to Yakov, he named the baby _Viktor_.

For definitely, despite the current downs he was experiencing now and would no doubt experience more in the future, Yakov would be able to overcome all those.

And this baby would be the one to motivate him into victory.

(Of course, that was before he knew more children were still coming his way, nor would he know those specific children would be the death of him.

Not like it wouldn’t be a sweet death.)


	2. Georgi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention on the first chapter that Yakov received Viktor at Christmas eve. I specifically didn’t write it in the story since Russia generally doesn’t celebrate Christmas hahaha. Sorry for the late info;;;;

Georgi arrived to Yakov’s life in an unexpected and dramatic way.

It was a week after he adopted Viktor and a day before New Year’s. In celebration for finally putting the child’s name under the Feltsman family registry (being a world renowned figure skater who had several gold medals under his name, and now the coach to several gold medalists, helped hasten the process,) Yakov decided to finally answer his urges and proceeded on purchasing various baby stuff (that may or may not be branded and expensive as fuck, a shopping habit he had unfortunately picked from his ex-wife) that Viktor may need in the future.

At the end of the day, when they were already at the supermarket for that day’s last shopping trip, when Yakow turned back to his shopping cart after a long internal debate on which brand of baby milk to purchase, he was surprised again as for the second time the portrait of a slumbering baby that looked like he was already month’s old greeted him.

Trepidation was quick to weigh on his stomach.

Someone up there seriously was having too much fun toying with Yakov’s fragile nerves.

When he reported this to the management, as they reviewed the security tapes, Yakov’s dawning horror turned to pure anger when he saw how the baby’s mother carefully laid the baby inside his cart before cheerfully skipping off to who knows where, mercilessly dumping off her child to her unsuspecting victim – Yakov.

The mall’s staff had suggested he drop off the baby to the nearest orphanage, as at this point there was nothing else they could do for, although the mother also left the baby’s birth certificate, it contained only the baby’s information – none of his parents’. And even then it was only the baby’s name, _Georgi_. His heartless parents hadn’t even given him a patronym, much less a family name.

Yakov’s anger just kept growing and growing.

Indeed, the orphanage would have been the right choice, considering Yakov also has his hands full of the days old Viktor. But when he tried to contact the orphanage, he found himself immediately dropping the call after the second ring. Yakov’s frustration built even more when the same thing happened for three more times.

In the end, after a week of countless internal debates with himself trying to figure out what the most ideal solution was as he took care of both children on auto pilot (his brother has a whole basketball team that Yakov loves to babysit, despite Lilia’s annoyed refusals,) he decided to forgo contacting the orphanage to dropping by instead. Yakov figured in this way, he won’t be able to make excuses to himself anymore and would finally be able to leave Georgi to their much more capable hands.

Jokes on him because when he left a few hours later, Georgi was still safety strapped on his back as Yakov cradled Viktor in his arms, completely confused at what had just conspired.

Who knew nuns were as persuasive as salespeople? He certainly hadn’t remember what exactly the nuns had told him (it went along the lines of children being gifts from the lord and Georgi ending up on his cart specifically wasn’t something that happened at random, it clearly held some meaning – same with Viktor) because his consciousness had only returned when the nuns gave him some papers to sign and fill in, with the promise of helping him add Georgie to his family registry.

When he arrived back home, he immediately proceed on preparing the babies’ bottles of milk and fed them. After making sure both children were already sound asleep on their shared crib, Yakov flopped at his bed staring aimlessly to the ceiling. As he reviewed that day’s events, he found himself weirdly enough not hating the thought of having another son.

Almost two weeks later, Yakov’s little family had gained a new member.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this was definitely inspired by the Korean movie “Baby and I” hahaha.


	3. Mila

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Passing mention of animal cruelty.

Yakov never expected he’ll adopt a child for the third time.

Most especially not a _female_ child.

But what was one supposed to do when attacked by two pairs of pleading eyes, accompanied by loud wailing?

“We found her at the dumpster near our elementary school,” Viktor explained, shifting the still wailing child on his arms for what he presumes is a more comfortable hold. Georgi stayed glued to his side, hold on the baby’s hand tight as appropriately possible – not like those clenched fists would let go of his finger anyway. “We just _cannot_ leave her there, you know?”

Yakov honestly wants to laugh at the hilarious picture his sons were currently painted in, but found his laugh irritatingly stuck on his throat when Viktor spoke of the baby’s origins. How could anyone do such an inhumane thing? Children were blessings; the Gods’ gift to us mere mortals to motivate us to work harder on our endeavors to make our lives a better one.

Yakov have always loved children. Though Lilia had never wanted ones, for it would destroy the body figure she had worked so hard to maintain, it had never stopped him from yearning for little bundles of joy of his own. Although having children of his own flesh and blood would ideally be better, Yakov honestly can’t stomach trading Georgi and Viktor for anyone else, nor dread to imagine a life without any of them.

Despite his two wayward sons’ fondness of springing up shits like this on a usual basis. As case in point, Viktor’s three legged poodle named Makkachin they found on the roadside flitting between life and death after a hit and run; and Georgi’s blind, one eared feline he rescued when a group of cruel children tortured it with scissors.

And, of course, Georgi just _had to_ make things more complicated.

“And besides,” Yakov’s oldest son added, eyes trained upwards to try holding in his tears. Yakov’s heart nearly broke at that, never really wanting to see any of his children crying sadly for any reason possible. His wonderful angels were made for smiles and affectionate gestures only, _damn it_. “As fellow abandoned children, we felt it was unfair that we fortunately have you Papa to take care and love us while she doesn’t.”

“Yes,” Viktor looked up at him, beautiful aquamarine eyes filling with tears, “She deserves a better life too.”

Well, what was Yakov supposed to do against that?

He carefully took the baby off Viktor’s arms, pointedly ignoring his sons’ triumphant exclamations and exuberant smiles. It might bring him to second guess this decision, for he has yet again fallen into the devious pair’s whims.

Though for the first time, this was the very first whim Yakov never regretted biting to.

“Georgi, run down the grocery store to buy milk. Viktor, start digging at the boxes on the attic for yours and your brother’s baby stuff. We’ll need all of it.” Yakov ordered. He watched both boys give him salutes before running off to different directions. That brought an instant smile to his face.

When his sons were already out of sight, he brought his attention to the baby in his arms, bouncing her and occasionally cooing until the baby stopped wailing and started giggling. Yakov couldn’t help mimic the baby’s wide smiles. He was starting to remember the particular feeling babies give us, completely basking in the warm glow steadily burning in his heart.

It had been too long since he last held a baby, and he just found out he missed it. Thought he certainly doesn’t miss the sleepless nights. Oh well, nothing much to do about it.

Yakov reminded to himself to give his sons the freedom of naming their sister. They _were_ the ones that found her, after all.

A few hours later, after both boys have completed their tasks and engaged in a heated debate with each other, Viktor decided to concede at giving Georgi the honors of naming their newest family member, momentarily appeased by the promise of being able to name the next one (Yakov nearly dropped the baby in shock at hearing that, because seriously?They wanted another _sibling_? Yakov was _not_ running an orphanage or a charity institution, _damn it_.)

Georgi named the baby _Mila_. A name he found off the internet that he particularly liked.

At the end of the day, Yakov honestly forgot why he initially hesitated at adopting the darling angel. The months old baby had done nothing but give Yakov gummy smiles and gurgled laughs. How could anyone resist her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, one more chapter (Yuri’s) left and I can finally start writing the actual shenanigans these troublesome family do or get into. YASSSS!!!


	4. Yuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains a quite graphic description of a car crash, minor deaths, and is not edited. Reading discretion is advised.

The day Yuri arrived into the Feltsman’s lives, Yakov had sworn he would be the last child he’ll ever adopt.

Never mind the fact he said the same thing when he adopted Mila.

He was going back towards his apartment after dropping off his two sons at school, having left Mila with her usual babysitter for the short while he’ll be gone. He was frantically brisk walking, knowing for a fact the three year old doesn’t like it when he’s away from her for longer periods of time, and would start screaming until he took her in his arms and settle her down.

She’s was quite a needy child, and Yakov wouldn’t want her any other way.

He mentally cheered when the building of his apartment complex was in sight, feeling completely relieved about the fact a few measly steps and an elevator ride separated him from his darling three year old.

That’s when a loud crash sounded.

“Quick! Somebody call the ambulance!” a frantic shout pierced through the atmosphere, followed by a baby’s wailing.

Dread dropped through Yakov’s stomach at the sight of the completely smashed car that collided with a water hydrant, the two persons – a male and a female – riding on the front already bloodied and unmoving. At the back seat, an old man was curled, shards of glass embedded all over whatever part of his body that was visible and already starting to bleed, back rising up and down raggedly.

The old man was sobbing, hands completely motionless as he tried to frantically coo reassuringly at a newborn baby wailing underneath him, smiling despite the tears and blood rolling down his face. Some were even dripping over the baby’s immaculate white onesie.

Yakov’s feet were moving before he registered anything, a slow walk that slowly turned brisk until he was jogging. Next thing he knew, his calves were throbbing in that painful way unlike when he had just finished a one meter dash in over three minutes as he frantically tried to open the back seat door to no avail, as it had remained shut.

“Don’t worry,” he shouted at the old man who momentarily looked up from his wailing grandson to give Yakov his attention. “The ambulance is on its way.” He assured, after a few desperate attempts at opening the still shut door until his nails broke and his hands throbbed red.

As expected, the old man gave a relived smile, on that Yakov mirrored. He was already resolved on keeping the old man and child company until help arrived that he was surprised when old man started bending downwards, hands still hanging limp on his side, peppered the baby’s face with kisses and with one last whisper that Yakov couldn’t hear, faced Yakov again with determination lining that creased face.

“Please,” the old man begged, blue eyes pleading, “Take him.”

Yakov released a surprised ghasp. “W-what?”

“Please,” the old man continued to plead, bending his body back to push the wailing bundle closer to the window so that Yakov could grab him. “The couple unmoving on the front seats are my son and daughter-in-law, this child’s parents. He’s already an orphan. And I honestly don’t think I’m strong enough to continue fighting to stay alive – not to mention – whatever happens next, I’m sure both my hands would be completely useless. So please, give- give this child a chance to live normally.” By the end of his speech the old man was crying again, coughing up blood at the very end.

Tears itself were already rolling down Yakov’s cheeks. “I-I-“

The ambulance’s loud wails cut off Yakov’s reply, panic gripping both him and the old man as various medical persons got out of the van and carried various medical paraphernalia.

“Please!” the old man was more desperate now, pushing the baby closer to Yakov. “Please save Yuri. Save our Yuratchka.”

Backed up on a corner, Yakov had no other choice but to reach for the child and started rocking him to sleep (which hadn’t been hard at all, as it seems like his continued wails had taken a toll on his small body), replying the grateful smile the old man sported with an uncertain gaze.

“Excuse me, sir” a man in scrubs politely asked Yakov, holding unto a small tank of oxygen. Yakov hurriedly scurried off, watching as the man attached the oxygen mask to the old man before calling the fire team and asked them to break down the car’s door.

When the whole family had been extracted away from the car, Yakov followed the old man towards the ambulance and was about to climb up until he was barred by a female medic.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said, haggard and completely unapologetic, “But only immediate family can come.”

“But the baby-!” he protested,

He was cut off when the old man gave a loud hack, squirming in his bed until the mask slipped a little that his mouth was freed. All around him, the different medics were frantically trying to make him wear it again.

“That’s all right, thank you very much for accompanying me, young man. I hope to see you and your baby again.” The old man said, smiling gratefully, blue eyes twinkling.

Yakov could only dumbly stare at him helplessly as the medics closed the ambulance door. Thankfully he managed to snap out of it before the can could leave, hurriedly leaving one of the medics his number and practically begged them to call him for any updates.

When the ambulance finally rolled away, he quickly ran towards his apartment, remembering he had a small child there frantically waiting for his return and was quite possibly already wailing and causing a tantrum.

It wouldn’t be good after all if his current babysitter would quit again, especially since it seems like Yakov was stuck taking care of baby Yuri for a while – not to mention, this was already his fourth one for the year, all of them not lasting long due to just how unreasonably attached Yakov’s children was to him. All of them not really warming up to the sitters.

And true to his thoughts, a wailing Mila was waiting for him at their penthouse’s door, chubby hands reaching up to him when he entered the door, wailing rising a notch.

“Papa!” the red headed child exclaimed, tearful blue eyes looking up at him.

Yakov’s chest constricted at the sight of those tears gathering at his daughter’s eyes, never really wanting to see any of his children cry, and crouched down to pull her by his free hand for a hug.

“There, there, papa’s here,” he assured the child, giving the sitter a thankful nod as the other left the place in relief.

Mila hadn’t taken long to notice the baby he held and squealed, startling the child awake and led the baby to start crying again.

Yakov inwardly cursed as he hurriedly stood up to rock the child back to sleep.

Mila hadn’t even looked apologetic for waking the child, frantically tugging at Yakov pants to give him an excited grin, blue eyes now twinkling for different reasons.

“Baby brother?” she giddily asked,

Yakov could only give her an unsure smile as he squealed again, puttering about the place and picking up any toy that scattered.

He honestly doesn’t know how to answer that.

An hour later, when Yuri was already sleeping peacefully at Mila’s old crib that until now Yakov hadn’t (thankfully. Seems like in this case procrastination had greatly helped him) put away, with Mila creepily hovering close, promising to keep silent; as Yakov started to prepare their lunch, his phone rang.

A nurse from the nearest hospital answered, voice completely stoic as she relayed that the old man had died at arrival, and that aside from him, the family had no living relatives left.

Yakov hadn’t even corrected her, dropping the call after promising to drop by later that day to take care of funeral.

That’s when he let everything out and cried loudly, startling Mila from her old nursery and ran towards him, already crying herself since his beloved papa was also doing it. Yakov only hugged the sweet, sweet child close to him, still sobbing, weeping for a family he barely knew and for a child left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And with that ends our origin/past arc! This seems to be the longest of all four chapters and, quite frankly, was the hardest to write, as it made me remember some unpleasant memories. 
> 
> On the bright side, now I can finally start writing all the funny and fluffy bits of this fic, most especially after this quite (or what I believe to be) heartbreaking chapter. See you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://fyvkthisshyet.tumblr.com/)


End file.
